Eternally Regressing Knight

“Isn’t this too much? Captain? Seriously.”

Krais said with his eyes dark blue and swollen. Enkrid, while taking off his boots, replied.

“Was your eye always that blue? That guy Rem, has some skill. His disguise was so good, I almost didn’t recognize you.”

His eyes were so swollen that his pupils weren’t visible. He had clearly been hit hard, though it didn’t seem like it was an intentional beating.

He might have overdone it a bit.

There were traces of blood around his nostrils, indicating he had likely had a nosebleed.

At Enkrid’s words, Krais snorted, swallowing and then sighing.

“Rem’s been acting a bit strange lately, don’t you think?”

Enkrid couldn’t deny that. He was sharper than usual, a lot more irritable.

Before, he would just ignore things, but now he would lash out with an axe even at minor provocations.

For example:

“Keep your eyes open. You wanna get your skull cracked with an axe?”

Saying that, he would address the soldiers nearby in a threatening manner.

It wasn’t rare for him to clash with Ragna either.

“Hey, picky eater, you want your skull cracked?”

In response, Ragna would say:

“Come out. I’ll split your skull and eat honey off it.”

And just like that, their brutal sparring would begin.

Enkrid didn’t intervene right away anymore. Now, he would just observe.

There was a lot to learn from these duels.

Watching them fight closely was a valuable experience for him, and it was actually quite enjoyable.

Perhaps it was a sign that they were maturing, or maybe they had just gotten more intense.

After a good fight, Enkrid would reflect on his own techniques and sharpen his skills, which made for an overall fulfilling time.

But lately, he couldn’t help but wonder: why had Rem become so sensitive?

Usually, Rem and Ragna’s squabbles were nothing new, but the worst had to be his situation with Jaxen.

From Enkrid’s perspective, it seemed like a pointless issue, but maybe there was something more to it for them.

One day, Rem and Jaxen faced each other in front of the door. Neither of them would move.

Rem began to idly stroke the handle of his axe, while Sachsen let his arms hang loosely.

Enkrid couldn’t just watch this.

‘This is dangerous.’

In the past, Enkrid had been able to break up these standoffs by squeezing himself between them, but now it felt more complicated.

“Enough.”

When those words were added, Jaxen made a small clearing of his throat and stepped aside. Rem, without a smile or a word, simply trudged off.

He’s sensitive. Really sensitive.

Of course, Rem wasn’t the only one who’s been like this.

Ragna also carried a similar aura.

And Jaxen was the same.

At least Audin seemed unchanged, as usual.

Rem said he was going on patrol, mentioning he hoped to come across a manticore or something along the way.

Audin, on the other hand, said he was going to lead an evening prayer and sermon to a group of soldiers with deep faith, where he was quite respected.

Jaxen, as always, was nowhere to be seen. Ragna was sleeping in the corner of his bed. It was all typical.

Enkrid scanned the inside of the barracks before speaking.

“Seems like it.”

This was his answer to Krais’s question about being sensitive. Thinking it over, it did seem like Rem had become a lot more sensitive lately.

“Ugh, but what did the captain say when he called you?”

Krais seemed satisfied enough with Enkrid agreeing about Rem’s sensitivity that he didn’t continue discussing it. After all, what was the point of talking about his sensitivity?

He was just a crazy guy.

Ignoring it was the best option.

“Mercenary contract envoy escort for the Black Blades.”

At Enkrid’s straightforward statement, Kraizs’s eyes widened. As he opened his eyes, the blue bruises around them became visible.

Wasn’t that painful? It seemed like it would hurt.

But Krais didn’t care about the pain. Actually, now that he was probably feeling the pain, Krais asked with a serious expression.

“You’re going to do it, right? Knight?”

Enkrid was unsure why Krais suddenly asked that, but he nodded.

The answer to such a question was always decided in advance.

He understood why Krais was double-checking.

Becoming a knight was indeed a distant, almost absurd dream.

Right now, it didn’t feel like the same dream that had once been torn apart, but it was still not an easy path.

Wasn’t that clear to Enkrid?

Krais wasn’t mocking his captain or trying to snap him back to reality.

Enkrid was a crazy person.

If he said he would do something, he would do it.

If he said he would seek it out, he would.

If he said he would fight, he would.

‘He’s not normal.’

Living like that, he wouldn’t last long. It was natural for him to not live past twenty years old, but wasn’t the captain already thirty-one this year?

How he had survived until now was a mystery.

But, anyway, that was the kind of person he was.

That kind of person wanted to become a knight. He wasn’t the type to give up easily, so Krais had roughly researched what the process was to become a knight in the kingdom.

Who exactly enters the knight orders?

Who are the squires before becoming full knights?

Most of them were the children of nobles, or acquaintances of prominent families. If they didn’t have power and wealth, some came from distant branches of royal families.

But what if you weren’t a noble or from a well-off family?

Even then, occasionally, really occasionally, a rare genius with unbelievable talent would emerge.

These people would often rise through their sheer abilities and be recognized by the kingdom to become knights. Of course, luck would play a part too.

‘But are such cases common?’

Absolutely not. It was never common. The so-called geniuses from all over?

When they met children from prestigious families who had been trained systematically from a young age, they often ended up being beaten senseless.

Learning swordsmanship, awakening talent, it’s all easier in the central regions.

The level in the central areas is much higher than in the outskirts, so everything – teaching, inspiration, and opponents for sparring – is better there.

Since skilled individuals gather in the center, talented people naturally flock to the royal palace, and talent is further developed in the midst of such a concentration.

True geniuses.

That means, unless you’re someone who can stand on your own purely through your abilities, it’s generally not easy.

Normally, if you’re not from a particularly distinguished family, walking the path of a knight is incredibly difficult. It’s tough. It’s painful. It’s a path of hardship.

Then, assuming there is a genius, what’s needed to become a knight?

Talent? Talent is obviously necessary.

“Did you refuse it?”

“Hmm?”

“The mission. You didn’t refuse it, did you? No? You didn’t, right? You must do it. Absolutely.”

In addition to skill, what’s needed is merit.

The marks of efforts made for the country.

Merit will soon become honor, and honor proves the subject’s worth.

For an outsider, especially someone who came from the ranks of mercenaries, the first task in becoming a member of the knight order, in Kraiz’s view, is to establish merit rather than skill.

So, if you really want to become a knight…

“Tell me. You didn’t refuse it, did you? You wouldn’t, right?”

The mission the captain spoke of might not have been very appealing to Enkrid.

Even Kraiz thought so.

A bodyguard for the envoy?

Who’s the envoy?

Kraiz’s sharp mind quickly pieced together the situation from Enkrid’s simple words.

It was obvious who was going. That noble fool with the strange eyes would be at the heart of it.

It would be those two as the main players.

At least a squad-level bodyguard would be required, and Enkrid’s strength would probably be a way to deal with that.

Why? Why keep Enkrid close to this noble?

‘They must have an agenda.’

That agenda was clear: control. Either kill him, or create a situation where something close to that happens.

The problem was if the noble figured it out and turned against them.

‘So that’s what it was.’

Marcus was a fox. A warmonger, really.

In Krais’s eyes, the captain was a fox among foxes.

Despite his rough appearance, as if he were some bandit, after the battle at Aspen and the Green Pearl battle, Enkrid had been dispatched to fight in a dozen other places. He killed the leader of the colonies and even executed heretics.

Just last night, he defeated ten skilled fighters from the Black Blade.

Audin had killed a manticore.

In the process, Enkrid had even devoured the manticore’s corpse, but there was no word from the higher-ups.

If they wanted compensation, they had to give something in return, right?

The captain didn’t mention any of this. He subtly let everything slide, without publicizing anything.

He allowed people to believe what they wanted, letting rumors spread without intervention.

Why?

Is it because he dislikes Enkrid? That can’t be it.

‘The reason for kneeling and crouching on the ground…’

It’s to jump higher.

He hides and deceives. The one thing he’s hiding is the strength of Enkrid and the crazy company.

The benefit to be gained by hiding that.

Krais’s mind spun rapidly. For someone else, it might have been confusing, but for him, this was easy.

Why wouldn’t it be?

To survive, he had considered far worse things and acted on them.

Compared to that time, this was simple – sitting in one spot and just thinking.

As he continued to untangle the threads of his thoughts, the answer came.

What leads the battlefield on this continent?

It’s the “knights” who break strategies and tactics.

Even among mercenaries, those who are considered “knight-grade” are the ones who make things happen.

There are beings among other races that are also called knights, and that’s how the term “knight-grade” came to exist.

So, elite warriors.

That’s what has long been the core driving strategy.

Of course, that doesn’t mean that commanders on a large battlefield would foolishly rely on one knight.

In fact, even in the previous battle at Aspen, the overall flow of the battle didn’t change until the Border Guard reserve forces, which were mostly peripheral, won.

‘It’s war.’

All of this is preparation for war. If you hide your own strength, it could become a fatal blow to the enemy.

‘This is the first move for that.’

It looked like the swelling around Krais’s eyes had reduced.

It seemed like Enkrid saw it too.

‘Shining unnecessarily.’

It shone even brighter than the captain’s eyes from earlier.

“If you refused…”

Refuse?

“I said I would do it.”

“Oh, I’m relieved, because this is important. You see…”

“I know.”

“No, it’s not just about what it seems. This mission to escort the envoy isn’t just a simple escort.”

“That bastard probably wants him dead.”

At Enkrid’s words, Krais blinked. His swollen eyes were now sharp again.

Ah, he wasn’t an idiot.

“Your eyes are disrespectful.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

He couldn’t hit someone who had already been beaten this much. Enkrid let it go.

“Merit, it’s a step towards becoming a knight. I know.”

That’s why it was important.

Marcus was more influential than expected, with a higher rank.

The envoy mission he mentioned wasn’t directly related to merit, but Enkrid knew the beginning and end of this wouldn’t be as simple as it seemed.

He wasn’t guessing the reason or speculating.

He just had a gut feeling.

Intuition and instinct.

Ever since his senses had sharpened and become more sensitive, there were times when his instincts would strike him like a sharp stab in the head.

This was one of those times.

This mission… it shouldn’t be left alone.

So there was no reason to refuse.

“No, I thought you might have refused because it would interfere with training. Yes, I get it. Merit, that’s what’s important right now. What’s more important than skill is merit. In fact, there are probably those in the knight order who get in simply through their merit, right? Even in the Red Cloak Knights, as much as they’re a prestigious order, they can’t be free from power struggles.”

It was a cynical remark, but Enkrid secretly thought the same.

“So, we decided to bring them along.”

If there’s a chance to kill him, would they?